The perks of being a nice guy
by poisonousforyoureyes
Summary: Ellie Stinson reflects on love, Disney movies, and how aunts come to be step mothers. Post finale.


**I had to watch the finale a second time to make sure I'd get everything right. It was painful.**

**I wasn't a fan of Barney having a daughter as a way to get him out of the womanizing path, but I did enjoy building Ellie's character and writing about her relationship with her father. **

**I hope you'll enjoy this, constructive criticism is always appreciated, and don't worry - we'll survive the finale through fanfiction.**

* * *

Ellie Stinson has grown up with a shifting idea of love.

When she's six, it's Disney characters dancing in meadows and running away in the sunlight. She urges Eric and Ariel to kiss and sings _Love will find a way_ until she knows the lyrics by heart. Her father occasionally joins, though not in a lame way like other parents do, like they do it to please their children but would rather be anywhere else. He makes a show out of the song and they perform it in front of the TV. He teaches her to twirl and sway and there's no doubt in her mind that there's nowhere else her father wants to be.

Her dad turns life into a big choreography and she dances and jumps and never stops having fun, so it's doesn't really matter that her mother lives away and she barely gets to see her. She's used to grown ups talking about her mother in a sorry voice, like they want to remind her that it's very sad she's not around, so Ellie thinks they'll feel better if she tells them she doesn't really care. They always look even more worried instead. Whatever, grown ups always act weird.

She sees love as a shiny, happy thing and never doubts everyone gets their fair share of it eventually.

When she's eight, love becomes more precise. It's Marvin closing the door before he answers a call on his phone. He whispers for a while and always comes out looking like Peter from school does when he gets extra dessert at lunchtime. Aunt Lily smiles knowingly and says something about a girl from French class before her son protests that she promised to keep it a secret. It's all very mysterious and Ellie hates it. "I got to know!" she tells Luke, and together they follow the older boy around until they catch a glimpse of the girl-from-French-class.

Love, she discovers, is eternity. At least it feels that way for Luke and her, as they wait for Marvin and the girl to stop kissing and go away so they can come out of the bush they've been spying them from.

She's ten and Peter gives her a magic pen that writes in special invisible ink. She thanks him and walks away, already thinking of the way she can use it with Luke the next time she sees him (he always insists on playing detective even though she's the one doing most of the deducing), but Peter calls after her. "You have be my girlfriend now that I gave you a present." She can't see why not. Besides, she's curious. She doesn't know what it's like to be someone's girlfriend, and even though kissing seems really gross, there must be other fun stuff you can do. Turns out, there isn't, and she even finds Peter pretty boring, but he keeps reminding her that he gave her the pen, so she thinks, _maybe that's how it works_.

The next Saturday, they all have dinner at Uncle Ted's place. Robin is here. Ellie has trouble calling her Aunt Robin because she's only seen her a handful of times. More importantly, she knows her and Dad were married once, before she was born, and she has no idea how to feel about that. She often tries to picture her father having a wife, calling her cute nicknames and making goofy jokes like Aunt Lily and Uncle Marshall do, but it's like imaging him wearing sweatpants – weird.

They're eating cheesecake when she notices something's in the air. Luke and Penny keep giggling and glancing at each other. Robin has this slightly dreamy look on her face and Ted's grinning in a kinda stupid way. She's glad Dad can't know what's on her mind, cause he'd scold her for being rude to one of his friends. She can't help it though: she doesn't really like Uncle Ted even tough he has never been anything but nice to her.

Anyway, she tries to get Luke's attention but he ignores her. When Ted stands up and clears his throat, she's sure something's going on. She's also weirdly sure she's not gonna like it.

"Guys," he starts. "You know how we always swore we'd all be here for the big moments. Well, tonight, I have something to tell you. Or should I say… Robin and I do."

He stops talking and looks around as if he's said it all. Ellie quickly realizes she's the only one around the table not getting what it's all about. Lily squeals excitedly and goes to hug them both, talking about how it's great and after all this time and Ted I'm so happy you're moving on, you deserve it. Marshall smirks and folds his arms. "I believe someone's just lost a bet", he says. His wife mutters something that might be a curse and gives him a twenty. "Can you believe he sat us down and told us this really long story about how he met Mom only to check if it was okay to date Aunt Robin?" Penny seems to think it's the funniest thing ever. Ellie wonders why that's all she got out of a story involving her dead mom, but she has the feeling asking would break the mood.

She knows she'll never forget the look on her father's face as he gets up to congratulate his friends. He high fives Ted, hugs Robin, cheers along with everyone, giving the same signs of enthusiasm as the others. Ellie had spent too much time running around with him though, playing laser tag and basically being awesome: she knows when he's genuinely happy and having a legendary time. She also knows this is not one of those.

"Gee, Robin, finally caved, did you?" he teases lightly, once again fooling everyone but Ellie.

"What can I say?" Robin grins. "He gave me everything. How could I not?"

Ted shakes his head, looking pretty pleased with himself indeed. Ellie is forcibly reminded of Peter and the magic pen and _you have to be my girlfriend now_. It's the first time she sees a child's expression on an adult's face. It's not a pretty sight: it feels backward, somehow. Wrong.

On Monday, she throws the pen on Peter's desk.

"I've never asked you to give me anything," she says.

She's not interested in love anymore.

* * *

They get engaged and plan a big wedding that Ted designs like one of his buildings. He describes the church, the food, the colors, the flowers and other stuff no one cares about, while Robin sits at this side, joking about how she wishes they could just go get married in Vegas in a weird high-pitched voice. Of course, Marshall and Barney are best men. Lily is bridesmaid. It's all mapped out.

Barney continually displays the same fake enthusiasm Ellie can't stand any more than the idea of sitting in a stupid church, wearing a stupid peach-colored dress and listening to stupid speeches about love and stuff. In addition, she knows her father is going to wear that awful tight smile the whole time, the one that makes her want to cry.

The Friday before the weekend of the wedding is a school day. She sits with Layla at lunchtime. Her friend pulls out a box of handmade cookies that Ellie notices are sprinkled with walnuts. She calmly bites into the one Layla offers her.

And ends up sick in the hospital. Everyone knows she's severely allergic to walnuts. Including her.

Fortunately, the matter is handled fairly well. Her days are no longer in danger by the time Barney arrives, though he went as fast as he could (and he looks like he _ran_ to get there, which is weird). "But she's going to have to stay in bed for the next two days," Ellie hears the doctors say, and she smiles. Barney calls Ted and explains the situation. "I'm awfully sorry, bro, I'm afraid we won't be able to make it." He stays silent as Ted utters what must be comforting, understanding words. Of course, Robin and I understand, anyone would do the same, we're so glad she's fine… Tell her we send our love. A proper, predictable answer from the guy who does everything right and expects life to reward him accordingly.

Her father looks like a huge weigh has been lifted off him when he gets back into her room. As soon as she sees his relieved expression, she knows it was worth it: the pain, the fear, the horrible tightness in her lungs. But when he sits up on the side of her bed, she realizes she can't fool him any more than he her.

"Ellie, you know walnuts are bad for you. It's written all over your medical records. It's not like you to just forget about something that important."

She doesn't answer so she won't have to lie.

"Ellie," he says, taking hold of her shoulders. She's never seen him look more serious. "You must never, ever, do something like this again. Whatever the reason is. Do you understand me?"

She does, and she's sorry, truly. But she keeps thinking it was worth it.

* * *

Ellie grows up and suddenly she's young and sweet, only seventeen.

Having discovered that the smallest wave of her blond hair can set half of the guys around into hysterics, she's always quick in using that fact. Her peers see her as a bit of a player, and she soon earns a reputation.

"Don't you ever think about how maybe the absence of your mother played a part in your upbringing?" a girl from biology asks her one day.

Ellie looks up from her science book, startled. This is about one of the last sentences one expects to hear while sitting through an incredibly boring class about mitosis or whatever it's not as if she's been listening.

The girl's name is Ingrid and Ellie sometimes chats with her about inconsequential stuff like schoolwork or teachers. She thinks she remembers the girl's mother's an architect. It looks like they've moved to the next stage of their relationship and are now about to exchange tearful secrets about their family lives. Ellie is not necessarily opposed to the idea, mainly because she hasn't much to offer in that area.

"I don't know who told you what about me," she begins, "but if you expect a tragic story, you're in for a huge letdown. My mother wasn't cut out to be a mom. So she didn't become one. That's it."

She doesn't add that when she heard Lily joking about how Barney used to call the woman he impregnated "number 31", she thought her mother had so little influence on their current existence it might as well have been her real name. She has a feeling it may come off as slightly sociopathic.

"That can't be it," Ingrid argues. "Everyone needs a mom."

Ellie wants to point out her best friend Layla doesn't have a mother either, but she's afraid Ingrid might jump on the opportunity to discuss how having gay fathers played a part in Layla's upbringing.

"I have my father. I don't need another parent," she says instead, and she's not lying.

Ingrid doesn't seem convinced at all.

"I heard your father was quite the womanizer back in his days. It might explain why you're such a-"

Ellie has to laugh at that.

"How the hell do you know about all that stuff? And second of all, I saw your mother at parents' day. Since we're all about genetics, the fact she was wearing socks with her ballet shoes might explain your own appalling fashion tastes."

The bell mercifully rings at that moment. She gives Ingrid her best I'm-a-bitch smile, takes her bag, and crosses the room to find Layla.

"Ingrid Hartman's just kindly explained me how I'm a huge slut and my father's responsible," she declares.

Layla lets out a loud laugh.

"About time someone attempted to rescue your damaged soul. What do you plan to do about it?"

They leave the room and start walking to their next period.

"I intend on charging him expensive therapy before I cut my hair and lock myself up in a convent."

"Make sure to visit me before you do, sugar!" Joseph Cohen shouts as he passes them by.

"Do you think it's rude if I tell him I'd rather eat a whole batch of walnut cookies?" Ellie asks.

"God, never make that joke in front of Dad. You know he still feels terrible about it?"

"Have you tried telling him why it wasn't his fault at all?"

"It would be most unwise, honey," her friend deadpans, "not everyone is as suited as I am to handle the weirdest, craziest parts of you."

* * *

They often say girls never go for nice guys.

Ellie could collect the many examples of the contrary she's witnessed over the years and make a book out of them. She could write pages describing the boys who think they can have it all because, well, don't they deserve it? They write bullet point lists of their good deeds and wave them around, expecting their reward, as if they were all back in elementary school when the teachers handed golden paper stars for good work and well-learnt lessons.

Ellie can usually spot them from the way they look at her, making her feel the branches of the star spreading out on her face.

Save from actually being nice, they do a good job of looking it, if only out of sheer conviction. Their belief is so strong it extends to the object they covet, insuring their desires are satisfied. In the face of such devoted courting, how could it be otherwise? _He loves me, after all. He'd do anything for me._ Thus are created seemingly perfect-matched couples like something out of a catalog, but reality doesn't follow, leaving you wondering why the gorgeous pair of shoes from page 10 don't go with your dress (and god, isn't she on a roll with the metaphors here?).

Contrary to popular belief, those people don't exclusively belong in high schools. After all, the couple that taught Ellie most of what she knows on the subject has been out of its teens for a while now. This is a study she conducts every other Saturday night at the Mosby's. She can see the wistfulness in Robin's smile just as clearly as she used to pick up the forced notes of her father's laugh. The older woman displays some sort of growing weariness as time goes by. Ted's satisfied air becomes hesitant in response; the look of someone who knows something's wrong but cannot quite envision what. Marshall and Lily come in sharp contrast, as they're the image of those who seized happiness as it came and never went in short supply.

As for Robin and her father, they offer an entirely different vision, something Ellie can't bring herself to consider. Everyone senses the strange heaviness pervading their interactions (though rare they might be) and no one acknowledges it, mostly out of reluctance at realizing the successful three-year marriage has never found proper closure.

In the cab ride back home, Barney never says much, instead looking at the scenery out of the window like it's one of Lily's abstract paintings. He always gets in a weird contemplative mood after seeing Robin, especially if they take a cab (God knows why), and she usually leaves him to it.

One night she finds it in her to ask about their relationship.

He tells her why their marriage ended and it's the last thing she expected to hear.

"But Dad," she says tentatively, "you love travelling. I've always had the best summer vacations stories. You had the chance to go places with Robin and be awesome, why would that bother you?"

Her father chuckles, but there's no humor in the sound.

"It's as Robin said that day. I took the out she gave me."

She doesn't think she's making up the sadness she sees in his eyes as he lets out a deep sigh.

"I don't know when things started to change, but one day I wasn't good enough for her anymore. Oh, she never told me so," he adds seeing the indignant expression in his daughter's eyes, "I'm not even sure she was aware of thinking it, but it was written all over her face anyway. She had decided we weren't going to work and nothing could convince her otherwise." There's bitterness in his voice now. "I certainly didn't."

"So…" she begins. "When you told her you didn't wanna travel anymore…"

"I took the easy way out, but not from what she thought. Not from us."

There's something in the way he pauses that tells her he's about to drop something big.

"I knew Ted would show up again and I didn't want us to be still married when that happened."

Ellie has always scoffed at the cliché image of heartbreaks, but for the second time in her life, she'd swear she can hear hers shatter on the floor.

* * *

She and Luke are not really friends anymore. Officially, they took different paths growing up, but really, they stopped being close the night Robin and Ted announced their getting back together. They each took their dad's side, she knows it, he knows it, everyone knows it. They all acted as if there were no awkwardness whatsoever about the whole situation, when there was barely anything but. Barney assured he was perfectly cool with it, saying "great" too many times, and his friends were more than happy to believe him. Ellie has always had plenty of occasions to notice the careless way with which they all handled her dad's feelings. _It's Barney_, they say in a way that's meant to convey all sorts of things, none of which she likes very much. She's always known she was her father's sole ally when it really came to it, but she might not have fully understood what it meant until the day of the walnuts.

That's what makes the really personal questions she desperately needs the answer to all the more difficult to ask. She feels a bit like Ingrid as she rings the doorbell of Ted's house on a weekend his kids are home from college.

"What sort of question is this?" Penny exclaims, laughing.

She invited herself along when Ellie and Luke went upstairs to his room. "I'm your morality caution," is what she said and Ellie rolled his eyes, thinking she and Luke were more likely coming up with a tap dance routine than doing anything even remotely "immoral".

"You want to know if we ever felt awkward about Ted and Aunt Robin getting together?"

"Well," Ellie says quite patiently, "they dated in the past. Before he met your mother. Don't you think it makes him going after Robin again…" _creepy, disgusting, insulting to your mother's memory, all flavors of wrong _"…weird?"

"I don't see why," Penny retorts with just the smallest hint of defiance. "He deserves to be happy."

"Yes, but… Do you ever think about how the reason they broke up in the first place was because Robin didn't wanna have kids? Do you realize what it would have meant for you and your mother if she did?"

Penny's blue eyes widen, and Ellie can tell she never thought about it that way before. But she quickly shakes away the thought as well as a strand of her hair.

"I don't see the use in thinking in what ifs. It's as it is, and it's not as if Dad wasn't allowed to have a love life now Mom's gone."

_You really are your father's daughter_, Ellie thinks uncharitably.

Stealing a glance at Luke, she can plainly see he doesn't have a casual rebuff to offer. He's obviously often thought about how his very existence had depended on Robin's whims. He wears the same expression she must have the day she came across a picture of her father's wedding. It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and she was thirteen. Studying Barney's beaming face, surrounded by his bride and friends, she found herself wishing Robin and him had stayed together. And then it occurred to her that, had they, she would have no reason to exist. She remained perfectly still, holding the wooden frame, as the world spun around her. He'd had it all, then, and now he only had her.

She spots a picture of Tracy sitting on Luke's bedsit for everyone to see.

The boy looks at her and they both know they understand each other.

* * *

Later that day, the day of the wedding picture, Barney came home from Marshall and Lily's to find her still standing in the living room staring at it.

"I know what you're thinking," is all he said.

"Do you?" she answered. What was meant to sound sarcastic came out as shaky and pathetic instead.

"You're not my consolation price," he said firmly. "I'm more proud of you than of anything else I've done in my life – including the Playbook." He shot her a look as he uttered those last words to make sure she fully understood their significance, and she had to hold back a giggle.

"Eleanor Legenda Stinson…" "That's not my middle name, Dad." "...you're the most awesome human being I've ever had the chance to encounter. I'm honored I got to play a part in the building of your legendary character. Never let anything or anyone question that."

There's a reason she's able to resist the appeal of the nice guys that well.

* * *

Ellie Stinson's eighteen when her vision of love changes one last time.

She's getting ready to leave for college, there are cardboard boxes everywhere in the house and life's a whirlwind of possibilities. There's a room somewhere in the dorm of Columbia with her and Layla's names on the door.

She's cleaning under the bed - why on earth is there a half-eaten candy cane rotting behind a ball of dust? - when the doorbell rings.

She'd expected pretty much anyone but the person actually standing behind the door.

Ellie stares at Robin in a way she's aware is extremely impolite, but she can't help it. She can't remember Ted's wife coming to their apartment even once before.

"Hi Ellie," says the older woman in a shaky, but not unkind, voice. "Is Barney here?"

She makes a weird pause before she sort of chokes out her father's name, which tells Ellie everything she needs to know.

Barney's doing who-knows-what in the living room and he raises his head as she opens the door. When he sees Robin standing by her side, his eyes grow so wide his head seems smaller in comparison.

As she sees the kind, open expression in her father's eyes, Ellie reflects on how there's always a chance on getting back on the road you were always meant to take even after stubbornly insisting on choosing the wrong one over and over again.

Maybe those who deserve the most are the ones who never think in such terms.

Ellie leaves the room, closing the door behind her and knowing more or less what to expect.

Perhaps she's not too old to sing _Love will find a way _along with Kiara and Kovu after all.


End file.
